


The Big One Zero Zero

by Kay_Peaches



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Antichrist Adam Young (Good Omens), Demon Crowley (Good Omens), F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Missionary Position, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Smut, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), anniversary sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 08:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20486165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kay_Peaches/pseuds/Kay_Peaches
Summary: One hundred years after the failed Armageddon, Aziraphale and Crowley find they have a lot to celebrate. Especially the 100th anniversary of the time they saved the world, and the 100th anniversary of the time they first forked. Things, of course, never stay perfect forever, but that's really part of Earth's charm, isn't it?





	1. 100 Years Later

Throughout the years since Armageddon, Crowley and Aziraphale had made and celebrated many, many anniversaries for themselves. They would celebrate the day they first met every October 21st, with a lunch reservation at their most current favorite restaurant. They would celebrate the day they saved the world, typically with a nice long walk up and down the beach near their quaint little cottage. Then they would celebrate their first time having intercourse, by heading straight from their walk on the beach on that very same night straight into their bedroom.

Aziraphale had decided they should both have a birthday, and he would celebrate his own with the most decadent cake - whereas Crowley would typically insist they spend his whole chosen birthday forking in different locations around their home.

They would celebrate Christmas with a tree and presents. They would celebrate their marriage anniversary every April 12th. They would celebrate the day Aziraphale had been saved by Crowley from certain discorporation in the French Revolution - or as Aziraphale liked to call it, “Crepe Day.” They celebrated the day they moved into their cottage together, usually by re-christening the entire home again. And of course, they celebrated the anniversary of the book shop opening, every year.

The longer they spent on Earth, the more they had to celebrate, and the pair couldn’t have been happier about it.

“You know,” Aziraphale began, perched delicately on his porch chair with a book, facing their vast backyard, the beach, and Crowley enjoying what would probably be one of the last warm days of the year. His dark and demonic husband clad in only a pair of black and red swim trunks. He wasn’t actually swimming, but that just made it easier for Aziraphale to look at him. “Tomorrow is a big day for us, Anniversary of Armageddon and all.”

Crowley lifted the glasses off his nose, his head tilting backwards to get his soft ethereal husband’s gaze. “I don’t think I’d be able to forget if I tried.”

“I’m sure, dear, but what I mean to say is, tomorrow is a very important Anniversary year. A centenary, I believe it’s called.” Aziraphale would never want to make Crowley feel bad about forgetting such an important year, but if he didn’t remind the demon, then who would?

“100 years… really? It’s been 100 years since we saved the world…” Crowley snorted, feeling as if it had only been yesterday, yet it had been a century.

Wendsleydale had passed away 10 years ago at the age of 101, leaving Crowley and Aziraphale the only beings on Earth who had witnessed the world almost ending. They were very used to that kind of thing now.

“I was thinking we could do something a little special and different this year!” Aziraphale said with a happy lit to his voice, his round cheeks lifting high into a wide smile. “I was thinking we could do a picnic.”

Crowley rolled over on his beach towel, laying on his stomach now with an almost wicked grin on his face. “Picnic is fine, sure, yeah, as long as we get to do my favorite part of the day.”

“Really, Anthony.” Aziraphale shook his head, picking up his book again. They both knew Crowley’s favorite part of the day. It was Aziraphale’s second favorite part, right behind the food. “Like we would just skip over 100 years of making love.” He rolled his eye.

—————

The pair knew sleeping would not be a thing that night. They switched between preparing food for their picking, creating absolutely divine confections and a savory meal - and stargazing. Aziraphale had probably been pointed out a million times which ones were Crowley’s and every time his breath was taken away by their beauty.

Aziraphale knew his Anthony enjoyed the beauty of the universe so very much. He would often suggest taking trips and holiday to countries and nebulas they had never been too before.

By the time dinner had rolled around, Aziraphale was practically salivating with desire, especially for the chocolatey little cake Crowley had prepared by scratch. Crowley knew Aziraphale would have none of the pre-made, cake mix from a box thing. The day he learned that was not one they celebrated.

“Aziraphale I swear to everything good and evil in this world, if you hold up one more sushi to my damned mouth, I’m going to explode.” Crowley liked the feeling of being full from food, and drowsy from exhaustion and drunk from alcohol. He liked feeling all the things that he thought humans felt.

Aziraphale just slowly lowered his chopsticks, a deadly pout on his lips. “I suppose you’re too full, then, to fill ALL your hunger?” He leaned back carefully on their checked red and white blanket to perch on his elbows. The sun was low in the sky and his legs were stretched out in front of him.   


Crowley simply lowered his glasses and looked over at the angel next to him. “Starting a bit early this year, aren’t we, angel?” He asked, letting his arms stretch up, as if extending his body would somehow make him feel less full. “I’m not complaining.” He added in quickly.

“I told you, it’s a special year. 100 years of love making is not an anniversary any old couple gets to boast.” Aziraphale grinned proudly at his boy.

“That’s because people don’t live that long, Aziraphale, remember? You’d think after all these years on earth, you’d learn a thing or two about them.” Crowley teased, slowly stalking himself over to the lounging body next to him.

“I have… Just not the trivial things.” He shrugged, not moving his body at all until Crowley had made himself comfortable on top of him. Thin dark clothed thighs framed Aziraphale’s hips so perfectly, he just loved to see the demon so excited to connect with him, even after 100 years.

The pair of them laid in the grass, winds sweeping across the hills of the vacant field they decided to occupy. The sun was dipping lower still, a golden filter covering everything as far as they could see. As perfect as heaven was, Aziraphale truly thought Earth was Her best and most beautiful creation. Right up there with Anthony J. Crowley.

Crowley felt the breeze push past his hair, the red threads had been grown out and cut so many times in the last 6000 years, but he had kept his hair short and cropped, if only so that Aziraphale’s rings wouldn’t get caught in his longer locks when the angel was giving him a scalp massage. He took a deep breath of the fresh air, his eyes closing for a second to just sit and enjoy all that was laid out before him. All the life, and Earth, and Aziraphale.

“You’re simply gorgeous, my love.” Aziraphale had let himself lower completely onto the blanket, simply so he could reach out and touch along his Crowley’s legs. Those tempting, demonic legs. His palms would slide right up the center, from knee to hip, while his thumbs would dip down to just barely trace along the inner seam of his pants.

Crowley had to shiver at the slow and careful touch. It seemed that no matter how many times they did this, he was always just as sensitive to Aziraphale’s heavenly hold. “Are you going to take your time then?” Crowley asked, his cheeks already heating up with every sinful thought and loving idea that came to his mind.

“If you keep trying to drown me, I may not have a choice in the matter.” Aziraphale’s breath was picking up slightly, his grip tightening ever so slightly. Crowley’s love was truly an aphrodisiac to him, and it was just pouring off his dear husband like a waterfall that evening. “Go ahead and take your shirt off, my love. Then I’ll decide.”

Crowley didn’t need to be told twice. He loved showing off his corporation for Aziraphale, no matter how snake-like it tended to be. Quick, and bony fingers gripped the edges of Crowley’s shirt, lifting it off his flaming red-haired head in a swift motion. He could care less about where the black t-shirt ended up, all that mattered was the hungry look in the angel’s eyes.

Without a second thought, Aziraphale’s hands came up to Crowley’s chest, petting and stroking the lean muscles, his hands finally finding their place on Crowley’s waist after a solid moment of just indulging in the demon. Crowley figured his question had been answered - Aziraphale was definitely NOT going to take his time that evening. With the snap of his fingers, Crowley had miracled his own pants and boxers off, his whole body completely naked and on display for his nearly desperate angel.

Aziraphale, typically, would want to take the time to undress Crowley himself. He didn’t like to just miracle open a new book when cracking open the cover, smelling the fine print, and feeling the glossy paper was just so satisfying. Perhaps his demon had the right idea that evening though, considering the way Crowley’s love was making Aziraphale’s head swim. He snapped his own fingers and left himself almost completely naked. He liked to wear and undershirt when they made love outside, if only because the wind always left him with goosebumps. Of course, Crowley always liked to let his hands get lost under a thin layer of fabric, almost instinctively, but neither of them had verbally expressed or acknowledged anything about this.

A low groan left Crowley’s lips, his sinful hips already getting to work, rolling against the naked lower half of his lover and husband. He didn’t even need to be told that Aziraphale was definitely wanting a kiss in that moment. They had come to learn every little expression of the other. He let his thin body lean over until their lips connected. Sometimes, like in moments like this, their kisses still felt as electric as the first. Crowley’s hands cupped Aziraphale’s face, his lips tugging and pulling and gasping as they danced in sync with Aziraphale. The angel’s own hands cupped Crowley’s ass, squeezing and groping as their kiss evolved from sweet to steamy in a matter of seconds.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers to conjure up some lube. He knew his darling husband didn’t always want to make love as a man, and neither did Aziraphale, but they both chose in that moment to make the same male efforts, and it so reminded the angel of their first time together exactly 100 years ago.

Crowley was distracted with his angel’s lips, his long tongue tasting every inch of Aziraphale’s mouth. Aziraphale had to admit he preferred when Crowley was a little distracted during this part, other wise he tended to just complain that everything was taking too long. As the angel slicked his fingers in the conjured lube, Crowley let his lips trail from Aziraphale’s mouth, to the corner of his lips, then down to his jaw, and finally to his neck.

“Oh, my darling. You’re feeling a little rough today, aren’t you?” Aziraphale chuckled, pressing a thick finger into the demon’s tight hole. A muffled groan slide off the demon’s tongue and onto Aziraphale’s skin, his mouth and head buried against the soft pale skin of his holy husband. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with just a few marks, my dear. Have fun.” Aziraphale may not have found pain to be all that pleasurable, but red kiss mark here and there was quite alright in his book.

Just as Crowley feared, stretching took way too long. Aziraphale was always so damn careful not to hurt him, and Crowley had been chided for trying to miracle himself ready in the past. The angel had huffed that time and said what was the point of having sex if you miracle away the foreplay. Sure, Crowley could understand Aziraphale’s point of view, but sometimes he really, really just wanted to get down to business.

“Okay, okay, okay…” Crowley had finished his mark a minute ago, having left a nice red blotch against immaculate skin. “I’m ready angel, I promise…” He grumbled, his head just relaxing against Aziraphale’s shoulder, his thin hips rocking back and forth desperately against his angel’s three thick fingers.

“Alright, dear boy,” Aziraphale couldn’t help but chuckle at how impatient Crowley was, but he also knew he could have spent all night there, slowly dipping his fingers in and out of Crowley while the demon slowly fell apart. That wasn’t the goal for this evening, however, and Crowley would probably explode if he had to wait any longer. “Go on, up you go.” Aziraphale moved his hand away, finally and helped Crowley to shift onto the blanket, laying down on his back.   


Call him old school, but if asked, Aziraphale would certainly say his favorite sex position would be missionary. He liked to look into Crowley’s eyes as they connected, he liked to feel the love coursing through the both of them. He liked to lean down gently and whisper sweet nothings into Crowley’s ears as he watched the demon unravel.   


Crowley laid himself back. If asked what his favorite sex position was, he would probably try to think of the most difficult position he could force his body to make, just to sound impressive, but in reality, it was whatever position Aziraphale wanted. He spread his legs, cock hard against his stomach, as he finally got a good look at his man.   


“Look at you angel….” Crowley licked his lips, his arms coming up to lay his palms up and open on either side of his head. He knew Aziraphale was going to want to intertwine their fingers together. “Hot and heavy for me. If you’re not careful, you may just end up falling any day now.” A smirk graced his lips, thinking of the truly hellish being Aziraphale would probably make. Sometimes he thought it was only a matter of time, other times, he figured if Aziraphale hadn’t already fallen, then he probably never would. He would just be a forever and constant thorn in Heaven’s side - and to Crowley, nothing could turn him on like that.   


Aziraphale was pink as he moved himself between Crowley’s legs, his hands taking a moment to pull Crowley’s hips up close to his own, before lining his own effort up with Crowley’s tight entrance. As he pushed in, a deeply happy sigh left both their lips. “Ahhh… It’s been too long, my dear.” Aziraphale muttered, moving his upper body to hover just above Crowley. His fingers intertwining just as Crowley knew he would want.   


“Are you waiting for the world to end again? Move, Aziraphale.” Crowley whined, his hips rolling against the holy being’s corporation, his eyebrows knit together in frustration. “Please.” He was at least trying to remember to use his manners in Aziraphale’s presence.   


“Good boy.” Aziraphale purred with a sly grin. His composure finally gave in and he pressed forward into his lover. The sounds that Crowley made probably would have attracted the attention of thousands had they been doing this in Crowley’s old London apartment. He had managed to keep his moans to a minimum back then, if only because the demon was trying not to discorporate himself prematurely. Now Crowley could make whatever noises he wanted, and nothing could stop him. And nothing could stop Aziraphale from loving every noise.   


Aziraphale bucked up against Crowley, and Crowley just tried his best to press against the angel, and keep up with the steadily growing pace. Soon enough, Aziraphale had found a rhythm and they were beaming at each other, just like they always did in this position. The angel finally had the chance to lean down against Crowley’s left temple, one of the demon’s most sensitive spots.   


“Don’t you dare-” Crowley tried to warn, but it was too late. Aziraphale had already laid a gentle and innocent kiss against the snake on the side of his head. A deep moan escaped Crowley’s throat, and his back just arched up higher towards Aziraphale.   


A happy chuckle left the angel’s own lips and he kissed the snake once more. “Well, we can’t just leave him alone on the 100th anniversary.”   


“We can, and we should.” Crowley was just complaining because he didn’t like making such loud noises when Aziraphale was nowhere near the same volume.   


“I like giving your snake some attention.” Aziraphale cooed, his eyes closing as he felt a particularly nice wave of love wash over him - really Crowley could be such a sweetheart sometimes. Aziraphale’s hands curled a bit tighter against Crowley’s hands and he had to sigh. “So good… You’re being so good for me, Crowley, dear.”   


Aziraphale was bucking faster by the second, a fairly decent sign that he was drawing close to his edge. “Oh, angel…” Crowley smirked, his head tilting slightly so he could place a kiss against Aziraphale’s own temple. “You’re close. I can tell.”   


Fingers curled just a bit more, Aziraphale’s face contorting in pleasure just a bit deeper. He was able to wrangle his hand away from Crowley’s for a moment, his pale hand moving down to grip his husband’s effort. The size was good, fair enough, but fit so perfectly in Aziraphale’s hand. “Together, now, love.” He muttered as he started jerking Crowley off, quick and tight, just like he knew the demon liked.   


Neither of them were very far off, their orgasms miraculously washing over them at the same time. Crowley’s hips pushed up desperately against Aziraphale’s hand, and Aziraphale, in return, buried himself deep inside Crowley until they were both gasping for air. Human bodies were such fabulous and wonderful things.   


“Happy anniversary, Crowley.” Aziraphale spoke up as soon as he could, wanting Crowley to be able to feel even a small fraction of the love he was feeling in that moment from both of them.   


“Happy anniversary, angel.” Crowley smiled.

They celebrated the rest of their anniversary holed up in their bedroom. Not many people had a need to visit them out in their quaint little cottage, but they still made sure to post a sign on their front door reading, “Do not disturb under any circumstances.”   


As much they were enjoying themselves and their endless anniversaries, they could not have known the trouble that was brewing ahead. The big wave that would come crashing down only 100 years after Armageddon.


	2. A Young Man in the Worst City in the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have finally begun to happen, and Hastur arrives to stir things up. A young, unsuspecting man stumbles upon a treasure he knows nothing about.

The past centuries that this city had existed had not been kind to it at all. An American city that had been mocked endlessly for as long as it had been around, and rightfully so. This city was well known for it’s constantly losing sports teams (except for a brief win from a basketball team in the early 21st century), it’s extremely high murder rate, it’s beautiful natural resources that had all been depleted and burned over the last three centuries with even the rivers being set on fire, and of course, the poverty rate had left the city a shell of empty and boarded up buildings with people mulling around in misery.   


The only slightly uplifting aspect of this city was the sole megacorporation that seemed to run every aspect of the wretched city. The Clinic(™) may have been a monopoly, but at least they provided the city with a handful of jobs… and they were still, at their core, a clinic.   


The perfect place for THINGS to be brewing.   


A lone demon rose up from the ground in the middle of a dying patch of grass right smack in the center of the city. Dozens of people saw, but hardly anyone cared - eyes as dead as the grass just blinked slowly at the demon dusting off his coat.

Hastur held a 21st century style flip phone in his hands, technology having clearly progressed somewhat in Hell since the failed Armageddon. “I’m here.” Hastur’s raspy voice called through the phone, his emptiness and loneliness made him feel on the inside what these depressed and doomed humans all looked like on the outside. He had felt like this ever since Armageddon. Ever since Ligur had been killed. “Where do I go now?”   


“Towards the shopping mall.” A slightly higher pitched voice buzzed out from the other end of the phone, very obviously the demon Beezlebub to Hastur. How a shopping mall still existed in the 22nd century was a mystery to all. “No wait, he’s saying you should head towards … The big tall office building…?” Beezlebub repeated back what they had been told. “I’m not getting very clear instructions here. You know how… uncooperative Adam can be some times.” They buzzed in frustration.   


All Hastur heard next was a light and happy laugh a bit off in the distance on Beezlebub’s line.

They may have needed Adam in the moment to help them find what they needed, but as soon as the little traitor wasn’t needed anymore, Hastur would be the first to flip him off. Adam was a big, awful pain in every demon’s ass in Hell - only now that he was permanently residing in the underworld, they had a harder time ignoring him. In moments like these, however, his unusual abilities were required.

Hastur walked away from the main square of the city and towards the tallest skyscraper he could see, hoping it was the office building Adam was referring. “We can’t trust what he says.” Hastur tried to argue. He HATED that brat.   


“It’s better than nothing.” Beezlebub muttered, glaring at Adam from behind their desk, piled high with forms and papers and junk. “Check any sort of vault they might have, then call back when you’ve either found it, or you’ve searched the place top to bottom.” And with another buzz, the phone cut out.   


Hastur just shivered in the unnaturally cold Autumn weather and picked up the pace towards the building.   


\----------

Hastur probably would scream when he learned that Adam had dropped him off in the correct city, yet SO far away from the actual location of the item they had all been desperately looking for - leaving the item for any unsuspecting young person to stumble on. The real kick in the nuts was that while Hastur was just on the other end of the city, Brantley Axcell was digging up a time capsule.   


Brantley Axcell. The butt of every joke at his small inner-city Clinic location. He may have been a nursing assistant, but he felt, at times, like he was really just a doormat for people to walk all over. He was a lanky dark haired man, with no good reason to stay at his current position - other than the fact that he knew he could never find the money to leave. He could hardly afford his crappy studio apartment as it was, so picking up and leaving was definitely out of the question.

On that particular day, Brantley Axcell had been given the task to wash out bedpans, as was his task every morning. It was just unfortunate that Brantley didn’t seem to give a fuck about what his boss told him to do anymore.   


He had caught wind through the grapevine that a time capsule had recently been discovered in the basement of The Clinic location he worked at, some little treasure found in the back of a backroom of a backroom. The thing had been buried right before the construction of the building in 1930, nearly 190 years ago. The building was clearly falling apart at the seams, if this time capsule had been buried under cement in the basement - so the administrative staff was hoping The Clinic could throw a bit more money their way if they opened it for the first time in front of a large crowd.   


Brantley had other ideas. He wasn’t exactly the most morally sound person in the world, and he certainly didn’t care about the integrity of a stupid time capsule from 190 years ago. He made the decision to sneak into the basement backroom and search through the items first. If he found something good, then he could sell it for a profit online claiming it to be an old family heirloom. It wasn’t like anyone would know something was missing, if not a single soul knew what was inside.   


Sneaking down there was fairly easy, he just had to swipe his card, tell security he was looking for medical records for his boss in the records room, and then make his way in the direction of the closet they had found this thing in.   


“Alright, Brantley, let’s see what we have here…” He muttered to himself as he twisted and pulled the top of the capsule off easily. It had been airtight, but he was sure no one would notice (or care) that the top had already been unsealed.   


He snapped on a pair of surgical gloves, and got to work.   


For the most part, Brantley only really found some World War 2 era items. There was tons of newspapers that he decided to just leave, he had no use for those things. A handful of bullets from a 1930’s rifle might go for a hunk of change, and he threw that into his bag. Clothes he skipped right over, but he picked up a couple pieces of jewelry. He was fairly happy with his haul when one more thing, buried way in the back caught his eye.   


“What the fuck…” He grumbled, pulling out a thick stack of extremely delicate looking worn pages. “‘ _ Further Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter Concerning the Worlde that is To Com: Ye Saga Continued…?’ _ ” His eyes scrolled over the first page of many. What was this? Some kind of fortune teller from the 30’s?” He snorted, looking down to see what was one more tiny text of lines towards the bottom. “ _ ‘I will not let thee prophecies burn, ye hear? Foolish to phink I would gife thee Prophecies juss to be burnt.’” _   


Now Brantley was extremely confused. As confused as he was though, a gut-wrenching reaction told him to take the pages. They seemed ominous, as if he was letting a demon possess him just by holding this fortune teller’s pages - but he didn’t care. He HAD to know more.   


Later that night, Brantley would go home with his bag of treasures, the bullets and jewelry lying forgotten in the bag. His eyes would be glued to his computer screen, the hours ticking by as he researched everything he could about Agnes Nutter, and a collection of prophecies she had apparently already written. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to anyone that can figure out the city. I will post another chapter soon with the ineffable husbands, don't worry. I'm just being indulgent and doing whatever I want.


	3. A Door at the End of the Hallway

If there was one thing that was certain, in the 22nd century, it was that people weren’t dying off as much as they used to. Human beings stopped having so many children with the gloomy prospects of very few people able to actually afford their children, and the advanced technologies lead to much longer lives. 

As an unforeseen result to less human beings born, and human beings living longer lives - was a serious shift of positions that heaven had to accommodate with. The “Meet-and-Greet” angels at the golden gates didn’t need to be so vast in numbers, but heaven couldn’t exactly give the sack to angels, so they merely had to give some angels new jobs to do.

Gabriel walked down one of the many unending pristine white hallways of heaven - a group of wide eyed, round-faced angels following in his wake. 

“I understand most of you probably aren’t used to the layout of the building yet, but I do sincerely hope that this tour is helping.” He spoke in a fairly kind tone, if not a little matter-of-fact. “I believe most of you will be joining Kafziel in the filing department. That has been a very quickly growing department here.” He informed them as they passed hallways and doors and windows and no-sit desks. 

“We are on a small time crunch, but do not be afraid to ask questions.” He addressed the group, even though his head was facing forward, and his feet were leading them all to the filing department. 

A hand struck up through the small crowd of about 8 angels, a slim hand with gold strands streaking down where veins would be present on a human. Seeing that Gabriel was facing away from the group, the angel spoke up, a delicate, happy, and androgenous voice rang through the white hall. “Gabriel, I have a question, love.” 

“Of course you do, Anael…” Gabriel muttered under his breath before stopping in his tracks to turn and face the angels. The poor things all looked so intimidated, having spent most of their linear time with the passed humans that occupied heaven, as well as greeting the new faces. All looked intimidated by the ‘business’ side of heaven, except for Aneal. Joyful as ever, Aneal. 

The angel was dressed in a simple green hued suit, lightly saturated just as everyone else in heaven was, to blend in with the unending white. Their hair was dark though, and cascaded down along their shoulders. Aneal was probably considered beautiful, as most angels were. Their gold veins accentuated olive toned skin, and even though Anael had never been to Earth even once, they wondered sometimes if heaven would allow them to keep the gold markings in their corporations.

“I was wondering, sir,” They began, pulling their hand back down before gesturing to the side. “What exactly is behind THAT door?”

Every angel in the hall turned to the side to see which door Anael was referring to: a door that was tightly shut, with a few boxes piled up in front of it, as if whoever had closed the door in the first place was trying to make the room obsolete. 

“Of all the doors Anael…” Gabriel sighed once again, thinking of a way to get out of answering the question. Or, perhaps, instead, this would be a good opportunity to let the inexperienced angels know exactly what happens if they go sneaking around behind other angel’s back. 

“Listen to me, angels.” Gabriel spoke up so they could all hear. “I’m sure you’re curious about that door, but I ask you all to refrain from looking inside. Recently, an angel, such as yourselves, was found conspiring with a demon, AND thwarting God’s great plan. We have reason to believe the angel has fallen… Something we all assumed was not able to happen anymore. Let yourself be a tool of God’s work, and you shall never have anything to fear.” 

And he continued walking down the hall.

But Anael couldn’t get their mind off of that door. Who was this recently fallen angel? Didn’t all fallen angels fall long before the Earth was even created? Anael knew they were told to keep their nose out of it, but the call was just too tempting. God had a plan for every human, demon and angel… And maybe part of God’s plan for Anael was to look inside that closed off room!

“Keep up, Anael.” Gabriel’s voice rang and echoed down the hall as the group of angels walked farther away from the door. Perhaps Anael could … explore later. When Gabriel and their new duties weren’t waiting anxiously for them.

\-------------

It wasn’t until much later that Anael was even able to bring up the door again. A few weeks later, in-fact, if one was counting in linear time. Anael and the other former meet-and-greet angels had taken to filing with Kafziel like a fish to water. It wasn’t easy work, but it needed to get done, and so, the angels did it!

Kafziel himself was a bit of an outsider compared to the other high-ranking angels. Anael had noticed he didn’t spend his time with Michael or Gabriel or Uriel, or at least it didn’t appear that he spoke to the others unless he had to for work purposes. Anael would even catch Kafziel, in the few short weeks the new-comers had been in filing, staring out the windows, sighing happily as if he was in a love sick young human. 

Outside the windows, Anael knew one was able to see the day-to-day lives of humans, and he figured Kafziel must have loved the humans as genuinely as possible. 

On that particular day, most of the new-comers had left the filing department to small tasks to be done, finding angels and filling out forms that needed to be filled out - leaving Anael and Kafziel alone in the large white filing room. 

Simple stacks of filing cabinets filled the spaces between standing desks and wide open windows. Anael’s pale green shoes squeaked softly as they took slow steps towards the window where Kafziel was watching nighttime on Earth. A quick glance out the window showed Anael that Kafziel was watching a family in the suburbs of the USA driving around, looking in awe at the Christmas lights that decorated most of the houses. 

“Is something bothering you, Anael?” Kafziel asked in a gentle tone, snapping Anael’s attention away from the peaceful scene below. They always appreciated how Kafziel tended to speak to them willingly, rather than roll his eyes and begrudgingly ask what they needed. Like Gabriel on that first day in this new department. “You’ve been quiet since you arrived here, and we haven’t had the time to talk one-on-one yet.” Kafziel continued, taking one more quick glance out the window. “Humans are just remarkable, aren’t they? They have such short lives, yet they manage to do some much in their time.” He sighed with a smile, and pulled himself away from the window. 

Anael rubbed a gold-streaked hand along the side of their gold-streak arm, figuring if he could ask anyone about the door, it would be this kind angel in front of him. “Kafziel, may I be frank with you?” A quick nod told them to continue. “Is it true what Gabriel said? That… an angel recently fell?”

“No.” Kafziel snorted, pacing carefully with graceful steps towards a filing desk to sit his corporation up on. “Gabriel is trying to ‘scare you all straight’... He should really have more faith that you all won’t pull what Aziraphale did.” 

“Is that the fallen … is that the angel’s name? Aziraphale?” Anael asked, glad to finally be able to quench the thirst of their curiosity after weeks of holding their tongue. 

“Oh yeah. Bit of an odd fellow. He really just … soured things up about 100 years ago. Not much else to it. No one has seen or heard from him since, but I’m probably not the most reliable source. Gabriel was there when a few angels confronted him about his interference, and I heard rumors at the time, but not much since.” Kafziel shrugged. It was fun to just chat with an angel without feeling like he was walking on pins and needles. 

“So if he’s really not fallen, that must be why heaven still has all his information.” Anael reasoned, following Kafziel towards where he was perched. And then an idea occurred to them, a bright smile gracing their lips. “Really not a single angel has had contact with him in 100 years?”

“As far as the files go, no. If he filed any forms, I would have seen them by now. Maybe that’s another reason why Gabriel thinks he’s fallen.” Kafziel was looking at Anael with a raised brow, knowing ideas were just sparking in the new-comers head. 

“Perhaps Aziraphale hasn’t filed any forms because no one has told him he needs to.” Anael stood a bit straighter. “He should really file AT LEAST his half-century reports. He may not be performing miracles, but we can’t just let an angel wander around Earth without knowing a single thing about what he’s doing.”

Kafziel picked up his head at this idea. He had to admit that he, as well as the majority of angels that were out of the Gabriel/Michael/Uriel/Sandelphon group, were just as curious about what happened to Aziraphale. It never really occurred to him that they could make a perfectly good excuse to go see what actually happened to him. “Yes, of course. Every angel needs to fill out their half-century reports.” He spoke up, just looking at the way Anael’s grin seemed to grow. “I DO remember there being a few rumors about just how dangerous he was, so if we’re going to bring him his paperwork, we had better go together.” 

Anael nodded quickly to this - of course they needed to go together! Aziraphale could indeed be fallen for all they knew, and confronting a demon about paperwork was definitely a hazardous situation. 

“You have got your corporation, yes?” Kafziel was getting excited about this. Just the idea of hopping down to Earth and taking a bit of a field trip to answer a 100 year old question was making him excited! Anael nodded and Kafziel hopped off the filing cabinet he had been sitting on. “Well then, what better time than the present! I’m sure that blocked off room will tell us his last known location, and we can start from there!” 

Anael and Kafziel immediately took off for the blocked off room at the end of the hallway. They moved the heavy boxes out of the way, and Anael slipped inside to find the information while Kafziel stood watch. The last thing they needed that night was to be stopped by Gabriel as he made his way down the hallway for a late night walk-about. 

The room wasn’t dirty, or creepy, as Anael had been expecting, but it was indeed dark. There wasn’t much information to find, really just a handful of boxes full of papers that were carefully labeled, with the last ever file about him labeled from about 100 years earlier. It seemed as if his time on Earth was fairly… uneventful until whatever in heaven he had done to be stuck on Earth. Anael thumbed out the manilla folder from the top box with the latest date scribbled on the top in Kafziel’s handwriting. “Bingo…” They muttered, flipping it open to see the image of an old pristine book shop in Soho, London. 

\----------

“Crowley, my dear, you’re going to have to do better than that.” Aziraphale whispered into his lover’s ear, watching the way his snake squirmed against the ground. “You should know by now that transforming into a snake doesn’t get you out of chores.” The angel laughed, watching the way his Crowley sighed and picked himself up off the ground. The human formation of his lover manifesting before his eyes. “But I do like seeing you make yourself from a snake to a human. It so reminds me of the day we first met.”

The two of them were crouched in the middle of the bookshop main floor. Layers and isles of books covering them in all directions. They had spent the last few days at the shop just getting it ready for the holiday season. They didn’t decorate much, but Aziraphale always tried to make the place look like a warm place for the homeless to get out of the cold for a little while. He much preferred the humans that just wanted to sit and read for hours compared to the ones that wanted to purchase his precious books.

Crowley rolled his eyes and crossed thin arms over a bony chest. “Such a hopeless romantic, even to this day, aren’t you, angel?” 

Crowley could feel an odd presence suddenly, his heart began to race and his hair sticking up on edge. “Do you feel that?” Crowley asked, suddenly very serious, and very ready to make an attack. His head snapped towards the door of the book shop where he just KNEW the presence was at. Just waiting outside the door. “Two people. Not human, not demon. Probably angels.” 

“Angels?!” Aziraphale almost choked, his senses must have been dull due to not being used in a long while, but now that Crowley was so worked up, he could feel it as well. “What are they doing here?” He snapped his head to Crowley, who was already making his way to the door. “Anthony, stop! They could hurt you!” 

“They could hurt you!” Crowley hissed back, his hand already on the door. He just knew the two angels on the other side of the book shop door could hear him now. “Go get your sword.” Crowley growled, ready to fight. He pulled hard on the handle, keeping it shut tight as the angels on the other side yanked hard back, trying to open the door.

“No, I’m not leaving you defenseless while I go get a sword. We should just run!” Aziraphale rushed up behind Crowley, seeing the way the door was being held shut by his lover. The angels would figure out soon that they would just have to miracle themselves inside. 

“Please go away!” Aziraphale yelled out towards the door. “We’re closed!”

“Aziraphale?” A voice called back from the outside, it was familiar to Aziraphale, but not exactly… fresh in his mind. It certainly wasn’t Gabriel, or Michael, or Uriel. “We just had a few questions!” The same voice called. “We’re not going to force our way in, but we’d like to just talk!”

Aziraphale was struck silent for a brief moment as Crowley kept his hand tight around the doorknob. “Who is that…?” He whispered, eyebrows furrowed. “Who are you?” He yelled out this time, a serious look on his face that Crowley hadn’t seen in a long time. 

“It’s me… Kafziel from filing.” The voice called, and a wave of nostalgia immediately crossed over Aziraphale’s face. “And I have Anael with me… from the Golden Gates.” 

Aziraphale’s mouth nearly dropped open as he remembered both Kafziel and Anael. He could see their faces flash across his mind in that moment. He didn’t even think Anael had a corporation! “Crowley…” Aziraphale kept his voice low. “I think you should let them in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to ask any questions you have.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a TON of ideas brewing in my head for this fic, but I don't want to get ahead of myself and start adding things in the tags that may not come for many many chapters! Strap in, it's gonna be a fun and bumpy ride.


End file.
